


Absentiatus

by Beene



Series: The Professor Muggle Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beene/pseuds/Beene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's George Weasley's birthday, the first one without Fred.  During a walk George and Arthur find a portkey which takes them to another time, requiring the use of the Absentiatus spell to find the missing portkey.  Will they return to their time?  What will they find out about their future?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absentiatus

**Absentiatus**

 

It had been a soggy spring; even those with long memories could not recall the last time Ottery St. Catchpole had seen so much rain.  February had been a mess of snow, sleet and rain, followed closely by somewhat warmer weather, at least removing the snow from the equation, but for the most part it had been a dismal few months.  George Weasley’s mood seemed to agree with the weather, as he sat in the kitchen at The Burrow and absentmindedly stirred his tea, which had grown cold.

 

Molly Weasley looked over at her son and then to her husband; both George and Arthur’s moods were easily read on their faces.  It hadn’t been easy, that first Christmas without Fred, but they had all managed somehow.  Now that the calendar had been turning to the inevitable, Molly was worried about how George would handle his first birthday without Fred.  She and Arthur had talked at length about what to do for George, but neither of them could come up with something that would make things easier.  Molly had spent many a night down in the kitchen, sobbing at the table by herself, afraid she would wake Arthur after he had finally drifted off to sleep.  Now she watched the two of them; they had barely spoken to each other for days.  Arthur had confided in Molly that after several attempts he just didn’t know what to say to his son.

 

The sun finally began to peek out of the clouds, throwing slim rays through the windows of The Burrow, and Molly took that as a sign.

 

“Both of you, out of the house.”

 

“What?”  Arthur looked up at his wife, shocked at her exclamation.  “Molly, it’s a swamp outside.”

 

“Then put on your Wellies.  Both of you need to do something besides stay here in the house.  The shed’s off-limits as well, go for a walk.  Do you both some good.”

 

George didn’t say anything as he moved the chair back, slowly rose and walked to door and put on his Wellies and a jacket.  He walked out of the door without saying anything, leaving Arthur and Molly with identical expressions of sadness.

 

Arthur and George walked side by side down the tree-lined lane as the sun fitfully sent its light through the receding clouds.  As the lane stretched off to a slight curve to the right, George suddenly stopped and looked into the trees.  Arthur said nothing as George stretched his long frame over the wires of the fence that lined the road.  Arthur put his hands in his pockets, pulled out a crumpled _Daily Prophet_ , and stuffed it back in his coat; he didn’t need any reminders about Death Eaters at the moment.  After a few moments Arthur followed his son over the fence, and soon both George and Arthur were in a dense section of trees.  When George and Fred were younger, Arthur remembered that they had both pretended that the trees were a forest; several times Molly had dispatched him to the “forest” to find the twins, and on several occasions he had found them pretending to be wizarding knights.  Now Arthur watched his son trudge slowly through the undergrowth until he suddenly stopped.  After a few more steps Arthur stood side by side with George.

 

“Dad, have you ever seen that before?”

 

After a few seconds Arthur ceased looking at his son.  The shock of hearing George speak had caused Arthur to not be able to focus on the object that George was pointing towards.  It was then that Arthur realized they were in a clearing; the trees were cleared in a perfect circle around what appeared to be black stone dais.

 

“No, son, I’ve never seen that before in my life.”

 

George stepped forward and walked around the dais, returning to the spot next to his father.  “Right.  Well besides the fact that I’ve been coming here for almost all of my life and never seen this, there’s a box on the thing that says ‘Weasley’ on the top.”

 

“It says our name on the box?’

 

“Yes.  Let’s take a look.”  George walked over to the dais and reached towards the box.  Before he could touch the box Arthur grabbed his arm.

 

“It might be cursed, George.”

 

“I’m already cursed as it is, Dad.  Might as well take a look.”

 

Before Arthur could say anything George opened the box and slightly pulled his head back in shock.  Arthur looked inside the now-open box to see a pair of golden-hued pliers on a chain.

 

“Dad, are those Muggle tools?”

 

“I don’t believe so…Muggle tools don’t usually have a chain.”

 

The two Weasley men stood there for a moment, and without saying a word both of them reached towards the pliers, touching the tool at the same time.  Instantly the sky started changing colors, the clouds began to swirl and a dark blue fog erupted from the dais, surrounding the Weasleys.  George and Arthur crumpled to the ground and remained still as the fog began to congeal, forming a dome over the dais and the unmoving Weasleys.

 

 

-ooo-

 

George propped himself up on an elbow, feeling the dry dirt shift under his weight.  He looked up to see what looked like a light purple eggshell covering the dais and his still unconscious father.

 

“Dad!  Dad, are you all right?”  George shook his father, who began to stir.

 

“I believe I’m fine, George.”  Arthur sat up and looked at the half-dome that covered them.  “What happened?”

 

“We touched that Muggle tool and things went all wonky.”

 

George stood up partially, as the top of the dome was a little over half his height.  After putting his hand on the dome, he realized that it was as thin as an eggshell, and poked it with a finger.  Almost as soon as George’s finger breached the surface of the dome it began to crack rapidly, eventually disintegrating into a fine purple powder that drifted away into the wind.

 

“Well, you don’t see that every day.”  George looked over at his father, who was partially covered with purple dust.  “Nice hair, Dad.”

 

Arthur stood up and took out his wand, and after waving it over George and himself the purple dust was no longer covering the Weasleys.  “Be careful, George.  The Ministry is still looking for Death Eaters.  This could be one of their tricks.”

 

Shaking his head George walked over to the dais and the open box.  George reached inside the box and pulled out a piece of rolled up parchment.  After unrolling it, he looked at his father.

 

“Dad, I think you should take a look at this.”

 

Arthur walked over to George and took the parchment out of his hand.  The words on the top said “read aloud.”  Arthur cleared his voice, and began reading in a confident tone that belied his feelings.

 

_What was long ago is now today_

_For those who wish to come and play_

_Or some like me who wish to find_

_What years ago was left behind_

_Seek the tool to find the way_

_To go back to your current day_

_And then the parchment soon will tell_

_The words to use the special spell_

_Until the tool is found once more_

_A spell will help to ease the chore_

_Of finding the portkey that you seek_

_Oh hang it, I’m rubbish at poetry.  If this actually worked then you will need to find the pliers again to go back home.  The Absentiatus spell will help you track the portkey.  Once you find the portkey the other parchment will activate and you can go home.  Just remember that if this DID work you have to tell Charlie because he will owe me 20 Galleons._

 

“It’s signed with the name Andy.  George, I don’t think we’re in Ottery St. Catchpole anymore.”

 

George sat on the dais and rubbed the stubble on his chin.  “So let me see if I’ve got this right.  That Muggle tool was a portkey, and now it’s gone, and all we have is the crap poem parchment and two other parchments that are blank right now.  One of the parchments will reveal the spell we need to get home once we’ve got the Muggle tool…”

 

“Pliers, George.”

 

“Pliers, whatever.  Once we’ve got that then we can use one of the parchments and go home, but until then one of the other parchments will tell us where the portkey is at any specific time, but we have no idea how to get that parchment to work.  Did I cover everything?”

 

Arthur nodded.  “I believe so.  George, I’m going to take a look around.  Why don’t you try to figure out how to get that tracking parchment to work?”

 

George tried almost everything he could think of for the next half hour, but nothing worked; the parchment would not reveal the tracking spell.  He tried the obvious, saying “Absentiatus” in a loud voice, but there was no effect at all on the parchment.  Finally George tapped the parchment with his wand, and in an irritated voice said “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”  Seconds after saying the words the text began to come into focus.

 

“Dad!  Dad, I got it!”

 

Moments later Arthur came crashing through the underbrush into the clearing, his face red and sweaty in the bright sunshine.  “What was it, son?  What did the trick?”

 

“Uh, I can’t recall.  But I’ve got it to reveal the spell.”

 

The parchment for the Absentiatus spell indicated that the caster had to point the wand at the head and make circular motions with the wand while saying the spell.  George looked at his father, who nodded.  After moving the wand in a manner that made it look like he was saying “I’m crazy” George said “ _Absentiatus”_ , and Arthur inhaled sharply.

 

“What’s it say, Dad?”

 

Arthur looked down and shook his head.  “Weasley Wizarding Wheezes International Headquarters, Outside of London, Sixth floor, Research and Development.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

George and Arthur arrived in Diagon Alley nervously, as things had changed slightly.  Ollivander’s was in the same place as always, but when George looked in the window, it wasn’t Ollivander but an old, bald man with glasses smoking a pipe.  George thought about stopping in to talk, but when Arthur pointed to the small sign in the window that said “Owner: H.R. Boyd” the two men decided to move on.  The rest of Diagon Alley was almost familiar; the shops were similar to what they knew but were somewhat off, as some shops had expanded and others were no longer there.  George started to head down towards his shop but Arthur grabbed his arm.

 

“We don’t know what’s going on yet, George.  Can’t just go barging in without a plan.  Let’s see if we can find a _Prophet_ and get the lay of the land.”

 

The two Weasleys walked down the sparsely populated street to the _Daily Prophet_ office where a stall stood outside.  After paying three Sickles Arthur stood a few feet away from the stall and looked at the paper in shock.

 

“What’s the matter, Dad?”

 

“George, how much does a _Daily Prophet_ cost?”

 

“Two Gnuts.”

 

“Not anymore.”  Arthur handed George the paper.  “Look at the date, son.”

 

George shrugged.  “March thirty-first.  Yeah?

 

“Look at the year.”

 

George shook his head.  “Two thousand and seventy-five?”

 

“That wasn’t just a portkey, George.  We’ve gone into the future.”

 

As they walked toward Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, Arthur stopped suddenly.  “I’m dead, George.  In 2075 I’m dead.  I would be one hundred and twenty-six years old, and I don’t think I’m alive.  Almost everyone I know is gone.”

 

“You’re alive right now, Dad, and so am I.  I’d be ninety-seven, so who knows if I’m still kicking in this time or not, but we need to find my “international headquarters.”  International…and Mum didn’t think we could make a go of it.”

 

Arthur watched George’s face fall as he realized what he’d said.  He put his arm around his son.  “It’s ok, George.  I find myself doing it as well.  Let’s go see what happened to your little shop.”

 

When they rounded the corner, to George’s surprise, the shop looked almost exactly as it did when he was there a few days earlier.  When they opened the door, the familiar sights and sounds surrounded George, as things zoomed around in the air and somewhere a large boom echoed in the background.  A young witch in a purple staff robe walked up to them and looked strangely at George.

 

“Have I met you before?  You look familiar.”

 

George shook his head.  “I get that all the time.  Can you do me a favor?  I’m trying to get to the International Headquarters of this fine establishment.  Can you tell me how to get there?”

 

The blonde witch rolled her eyes.  “Nice one.  Go bother someone else, I have to work.”

 

Arthur cleared his voice.  “I’m sorry; we are a wee bit lost.  It’s our first time here, and we really are trying to find the International Headquarters.”

 

The witch laughed, then stopped and looked confused.  “You’re serious, aren’t you?  You really don’t know?  You don’t know…ok, never mind, you just made my day.  Hold on a mo.”

 

George and Arthur watched her walk away.  When she returned she was holding a book.  “It’s fifteen Galleons.”

 

Arthur and George looked at each other and realized at the same time that they didn’t have enough money.  The witch shook her head and thumbed through the pages until she found what she was looking for.

 

“Here’s the address.  Can’t let you keep the book, sorry.  The unpaid merchandise alarm would go off, and when that happens it’s a madhouse.”

 

After writing down the address, the Weasleys left the shop.  After walking a few yards in silence George looked at his father.  “Dad, that book…”

 

“I know, son.  I don’t know if we should try to find out what happened to our family or ignore as much as possible.”

 

George shrugged.  “Well, we’re going to find out some things, no doubt about that.  Let’s go; hopefully some places haven’t changed too much.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

When George and Arthur arrived at the statue they breathed a large sigh of relief.  They had argued for quite a while about whether to try and apparate, as Arthur was worried that things would have changed enough that they would end up inside a wall or some other unfortunate place.  Luckily the park that George remembered was still there, but instead of a large expanse of green towards the south end of the park a large building stood that could only be described as a castle.  The sun had begun to set, giving the castle a black hue that was only broken by the sharp relief of the flag on the rampart wall against the sky.

 

“You boys always said you were building a castle in the woods.  Looks like you actually did build one, George.”

 

“Brilliant!”  George looked at the castle, specifically the purple flag on the top with the triple-W logo.  “Let’s go!”

 

“You’re just going to walk in?”  Arthur shook his head.

 

“It’s my castle, Dad.”

 

As they walked up to the drawbridge a security guard stepped out to meet them.

 

“Can I see some ID, please?”

 

George grinned and held his wand up to his face.  After the light expanded he looked at the guard.  “Don’t you know who I am?”

 

The guard’s demeanor changed immediately.  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Weasley.  Please go on in.  I apologize, sir; didn’t recognize you.”

 

George waved his hand, dismissing the offense.  “No worries, mate.  In fact, I appreciate your work so much I’m raising your salary ten percent.”

 

“Wow!  Thank you, sir!  Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

“Could you have an escort come out to take us to Research & Development?  My, uh, Uncle here and I are afraid we’re being followed.  People trying to steal trade secrets.”

 

The guard nodded vigorously.  “Of course, sir, right away, sir.”

 

Moments later a young wizard walked with them towards a large elevator.  Arthur’s nerves were beginning to take over, but George looked happy for the first time in weeks.

 

As they exited the elevator George wandered around the hallway.  The walls were initially white, then changed colors as George walked by, moving from white to blue to purple; after he had passed they changed to white again.  George stopped and looked at the wall, and watched it change colors in front of his face.  While he was intrigued with the enchanted paint, the location of the pliers was more important, so he began walking down the hall, looking at all the doors until he found a door that simply said “R&D.”  After Arthur joined him George opened the door and stepped inside the room.  The walls were a clean, clinical white, and several tables stood in the middle of the room.  File cabinets completely covered the far wall, and on the near side of the room was a desk with several pictures.  George walked over to the desk, sat down and pulled a picture off of the desk.

 

“George!”  Arthur walked over quickly.  “That’s not yours!”

 

“I don’t know who she is, but she’s not bad.”

 

In the picture George held, a woman with long, dark hair sat on a chair, waved and laughed at the camera.  After he replaced the picture George began looking through the desk.  “Before you say anything, Dad, I’m looking for the pliers.”  After about ten minutes George sat back in the chair and ran his hands through his hair.

 

“I take it you didn’t find it?”  Arthur sat on the corner of the desk.

 

“No, Dad, I didn’t.  I found some Peruvian Darkness Powder, something called a Disillusionment Chew, a very realistic toy pirate ship with miniature pirates that tried to attack my arm, a Dumbledore Chocolate Frog card and a letter from Hogwarts Headmaster Ryder-Smythe, whoever she is, about detention for Andy Weasley, but no pliers.  Apparently the Weasley tradition of letters from the headmaster continues in the future.  Nice to see that some things don’t really change.”

 

Arthur shook his head and rubbed his eyes.  If George only knew how many nights he and Molly had sat in bed worrying about the twins.  The conversation usually went the same, as Arthur reminded Molly how the twins had inherited their “creative” streak from her brothers, and Molly half-heartedly denied being amused by the twins’ antics.  Eventually they would both laugh at the boys and then come to an agreement on how to handle the punishment.  By the time Molly had started writing the Howler her anger at the boys’ misbehavior would be back, and the letter was appropriately angry.  Whoever Andy’s parents were, Arthur was sure they probably had encountered the same process.

 

“I wonder…”  George took out the parchment and did the _Absentiatus_ spell again.  “Bloody hell.  It’s not here, anymore, Dad.  You’ll never believe where it is.”

 

“George, after the day we’ve had, I’m ready to believe almost anything.”

 

“It’s in France.  France!  Right now it’s at the home of Jean and Violet Girard.  Ever heard of them?”

 

“No.  We should probably be leaving soon, George.  We have to find someplace to stay tonight.”  Arthur looked around nervously, and then walked over to a picture hanging on the far wall.  “Son, take a look at this.”

 

George walked over and took at look at the picture his father had pointed out.  The face looked a lot like his, but somewhat older.  The nameplate under the picture read “Henry Weasley – Head of Research & Development.”  It did look like him, sort of.  George began wondering, who exactly was Henry Weasley?  Was he one of his Bill’s sons?  But the man really did look like him.

 

“No wonder they let you in, son.  The two of you look alike.”  Arthur put his hand on his son’s shoulder.  “And as much as I would like to know, the thought of your mother sitting there worried about us makes me ill.”

 

George nodded, and the two men came to an unspoken agreement.  It was bad enough when Fred was taken away, but if Molly lost the two of them?  “So where do we go, Dad?”

 

“Let’s go home, son.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The moon hung heavy and yellow in the night sky as George and Arthur arrived at the edge of The Burrow.  It seemed very odd to see the house without a light on, and for some reason there was a gate and a fence around the property.  After opening the gate they walked towards the house, but something stopped them mid-step, and the air seemed to shimmer in front of them.

 

A disembodied voice in a clear, calm female tone said “The Weasley Museum is now closed.  Regular hours are nine a.m. to seven p.m. daily.  The museum is closed on the afternoon of April first and the entirety of Christmas day.  The Ministry Historical Society thanks you for your interest.”

 

As Arthur stepped back from the shimmering wall he looked to George.  “My house is a museum?  George, I…really?  A museum?”

 

“Come on, Dad.”  George put his hand on his father’s shoulder.  “I think I know a place.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

“I’m almost afraid to ask how you know about that tunnel, George.”  Arthur looked around the Herbology greenhouse, hopeful that nobody had noticed their arrival.  “I didn’t think it was possible to get on Hogwarts grounds without permission.  Do I want to know more about this?”

 

“Probably not.  Best just to let it go.”

 

George walked towards the back of the greenhouse, his wand faintly lighting the way.  He made sure to step to the side of some of the more aggressive plants, and eventually made his way to the back of the building.  A series of ferns seemed to blanket the wall, and George put his arm through the fronds to feel the back of the wall.  “It used to be right here, and…”

 

Before George could finish his sentence a scream filled the air, causing him to jump and pull his hand back quickly.  Arthur pointed his wand towards the wall.

 

“Whoever you are, reveal yourself!”

 

George pointed his wand at the wall of ferns.  “ _Lumos_!”  In the shadows and ferns a strawberry-blonde girl stood in her Hogwarts uniform.  Her eyes were large, and it was obvious from the look on her face that she was terrified.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to be here, but I can’t have another detention!  Mum said she’d make me give up Quidditch if I got another detention!”

 

George was shocked.  “Give up Quidditch?  That’s horrible.  Ok, calm down, now.  We’re not going to tell anybody anything, are we, Dad?”

 

Arthur looked at George and then nodded emphatically towards the girl.  To Arthur’s eye she looked as if she might be a fourth or fifth year student and she was wearing a Gryffindor jumper.  “Not a word, my dear. Now why don’t you come out from the plants and have a seat.”

 

Arthur conjured up three chairs, and only after George and Arthur had sat down and put away their wands did the girl finally seem comfortable enough to sit with them.  The girl sat nervously in her seat, her hands clasped in her lap as the bright yellow moon shone down through the glass roof of the greenhouse.

 

“Are you sure you’re not going to tell on me?”  The girl nervously rubbed her thumbs together and peered at the two men sitting with her.  “I really can’t afford another detention.”

 

“Trust me, detentions never work.”  George laughed, and then looked at Arthur shake his head.  “Well, they don’t, Dad.”

 

Arthur shrugged his shoulders.  “Too late for that.  Now Miss, if you don’t mind, I’d like to try a little more light.  The moon is bright, but my eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

 

The girl sat up straight, reached into her pocket and pulled out something.  Before George and Arthur could ask, she threw the object down, which caused a bright flash then it was as if sunshine had erupted from the spot in ribbons.  George watched as the ribbons snaked together, forming a dome the size of a small tent over the three of them.  Inside the newly formed “tent” it was if it was high noon on a bright, sunny day.  The rest of the Herbology greenhouse could no longer be seen.

 

“What in Merlin’s name was that?”  Arthur looked towards the bright dome, then back at the girl.  “Is it safe?”

 

“Quite safe.  It’s one of Daddy’s.  It’s an Unseeable Nightlight Tent, we use them for…well, and I’m not supposed to have it.  I’m not really going to say anymore until you tell me who you are.”  The girl looked at the two men sitting with her and gasped.  “Merlin’s pants!  I don’t believe it!”

 

Arthur cocked his head to the side and looked at the girl.  “You don’t believe what, my dear?”

 

“I think she knows who we are, Dad.”  George looked towards the girl.  “You do, don’t you?”

 

She slowly nodded her head.  “I can’t believe it.  Andy did it.  I know who you are.”  She pointed towards Arthur.  “You’re my great-great-grandfather.”

 

Arthur sat back and watched George and Melody Weasley, his great-great-granddaughter, talk about the mechanics of the Unseeable Nightlight Tent and how she was in the Herbology greenhouse to take some samples that were somewhat unauthorized.  Now that there was enough light he could see the Weasley family resemblance in the girl; the reddish-blonde hair, the freckles, the big brown eyes that looked like Molly’s.  After a few moments he couldn’t take it any longer and interrupted the two of them.

 

“I’m sorry to stop a fascinating discussion on the magical properties of the Unseeable Night Tent or whatever it’s called, but can you tell me what’s happened again?

 

Melody smiled and looked at her Great-Great-Grandfather Weasley.  “Andy made a bet with Charlie that it was possible to create a time-traveling portkey.  One of the antiques from the museum was used and set it so that it would happen right before the Family Reunion, but Charlie made it harder with the _Absentiatus_ spell.  When nothing happened right away he collected his twenty Galleons.  I know who you are from Granny Weasley’s portrait of you; it’s hanging in the museum.”

 

“And what’s your Granny Weasley’s name?”  George looked at Melody and began laughing.  “Granny Weasley?  Dad, do you think it’s Ginny?”

 

The girl shook her head.  “Gran said that even though her name is Virginia she usually isn’t called Ginny, as that’s her godmother.”

 

“Godmother?”  Arthur looked to George, then back to Melody.  “Ginny Weasley is your Gran’s godmother?”

 

“No, it’s Ginny Potter.”  Melody looked at the confused faces.  “Oh, you probably didn’t know that yet.  What year was it when you left?”

 

“Here, take a look at this.”

 

Arthur pulled a crumpled _Daily Prophet_ out of his pocket and handed it to Melody.  He watched her take a look at the paper, then when her gaze met his, Arthur nodded.  Melody handed the paper back to Arthur and looked up at the roof of the tent and then pointed to the cracks that were beginning to form over them.

 

“Time’s about up.  We need to go find Andy.  Don’t worry; I know a secret way back into the castle.”

 

George looked over at his father and smiled.  “Definitely a Weasley.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

As much as things had changed in the world, both of the Weasley men were comforted to know that some things simply continued on as always.  The Gryffindor common room looked much as it did when both Arthur and George were in school, albeit with some new furniture every now and then and a new portrait over the fireplace.  The two men took a seat in a shadowy corner while Melody went upstairs to find Andy.

 

“What do you think, Dad?”  George looked over to his father, who seemed as if he was in a daze.

 

“I don’t know if we were ever meant to know such things, George.  Ginny and Harry, married?  I know your Mum always wanted that, and they have been together quite a bit since, well, since everything ended, but…do you think our being here will change the future?  There’s a reason timeturner use is legislated so heavily, you know.”

 

“Right.  But what I’m wondering is which Weasley is she?  One of Bill’s?  I mean, how is she a Weasley?”

 

Before Arthur could answer they heard footsteps on the staircase, and eventually Melody came down the steps followed by a sleepy looking young woman with flaming red, curly hair who was wearing a robe and fuzzy blue slippers.  She was older than Melody, and Arthur guessed she was in her seventh year.  As the two girls came closer the Weasley men could hear her talking.

 

“Melly, if you’re pulling a trick on me I swear I’ll tell Seamus Finnegan that you fancy…oh!  Merlin’s beard!  It worked!”

 

The girls stood in front of Arthur and George, and Andy, the sleepy girl, looked as if she’d just been given a fortune in Galleons.

 

“Great-Great Grandpa Arthur!”  Andy threw her arms around Arthur and kissed him on the cheek.  “I’ve wanted to meet you all of my life!”

 

After stepping back she then threw her arms around George and kissed him on the cheek.  “And I’ve _definitely_ wanted to meet you, Great-Grandpa!”

 

Hearing her exclamation Arthur began to chuckle; once he saw George’s shocked face he couldn’t help himself and really laughed.

 

“We’ll wake the rest of the house!”  Melody shook her head.  “Come on, we need to go somewhere where we can talk.”

 

Andy stood back from George and nodded her head.  “She’s right.  Come on, I know you know where the Room of Requirement is.”

 

After the four Weasleys dodged Filch’s ghost they entered the Room of Requirement.  Andy took charge, and soon the room resembled a nice hotel lobby, complete with overstuffed armchairs and a roaring fire.  Snug in their chairs, the girls kept looking at George and Arthur, then at each other, and giggling.

 

Finally George couldn’t stand it any longer.  “Right then, out with it.  What’s so bloody funny?”

 

“I still can’t believe it actually worked.”  Andy moved a large swath of curls over her shoulder.  “I mean, I read your notes that you hid in your office, but I never thought I could get it to work.”

 

“Wait a sec, my notes?”  George crinkled up his nose and looked at Andy.  “How exactly did you get my notes?  And who are your parents?”

 

“George, I don’t know if we should really ask.”  Arthur looked down his nose at his son.  “We could end up altering things.”

 

Andy smiled.  “Oh, there’s no worry about that.  I like hanging out in your old office at the original shop, and I found your hiding place.  The notes had a formula for a specific Obliviation spell; it takes away things so you won’t remember, but only after you’ve touched the portkey.  Part of the Weasley Time Tourism plan; that’s what you called the project.  It would have allowed people to visit other times and enjoy themselves, but the fact that nobody would remember their visit meant that it wouldn’t make any money.  Who wants to go on a tour and never remember it?  You never finished it and hid it away.”

 

“So that means we can ask you anything, and when we go back it’ll be as if…”

 

“You just stepped out for a walk or woke up from a nap.  No recollection at all.”  Melody smiled at her ancestors.  “So ask away.”

 

“Ok, then.”  George leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.  “Both of you girls are Weasleys, so tell us who your parents and grandparents are, and why you have a boy’s name, Andy.”

 

Andy laughed.  “Well, Andy is short for Andromeda, so it’s not a boy’s name.  My parents are Henry and Cassandra Weasley, Dad’s parents are Freddie and Elise Weasley, and Freddie’s Dad is, well, you, George.”

 

“Merlin’s pants!  Who did I marry?”

 

Andy looked at George.  “Are you sure you want to know?  Why not, you won’t remember it anyway.  Angelina Johnson.”

 

Arthur laughed.  “Your Mum will be very pleased, George.  And what about you, Melody?”

 

“My dad’s Georgie and my mum’s Dahlia.  My grandpa and my gran are Hugo and Virginia Weasley, Hugo’s Dad is Ron.  He married Hermione Granger.”

 

George laughed at that.  “No surprise there, he’s fancied her for years, even when he didn’t realize it.  Wait, I am surprised that she actually agreed to marry him, let alone have children.”

 

As Arthur listened he found himself in a state of relief.  After everything they had gone through during the war, it had all been worth it.  The girls sitting in front of him were happy, normal Hogwarts students.  Andy’s grandfather’s name hadn’t escaped his notice; George had named a son Fred.  Ginny and Harry would marry and have children, and so would Ron and Hermione.  The loss of Fred pained him deeply at that moment, as he thought of what could have been for his son.  Above everything he wished that he could tell Molly about what was in store, but when he returned he wouldn’t remember a thing.  It was that thought that made him remember a part of the puzzle that was still outstanding.

 

“Girls, if I could ask a question, please.  The parchment we have tells us where the pliers, er, the portkey is, and the last time we looked they were in France.  Could you explain that?  And how will we get the portkey to go back to our time?”

 

“Oh, I can tell you.”  Andy folded one of her legs underneath her as she repositioned herself in the chair.  “Mom went over to Aunt Violet’s.  She always goes over there so they can bring back the girls for the Reunion.”  After seeing blank stares from George and Arthur, she sighed.  “I keep forgetting you don’t know who anybody is.  My Aunt Violet married Jean, and they live in France with my cousins.  They go to Beauxbatons.  Aunt Violet’s mum is Roxanne, your daughter, George.  My mum found the pliers in my room when she came up for the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Quidditch match, and since they’re from museum, she took them with her.”

 

“I have a daughter, too?  Merlin’s beard.  Ok, so why did the parchment say they were at Weasley International Headquarters?”  George looked at her intently.  “Was the tracking spell part of my plan?”

 

Andy shook her head.  “No, that was Charlie’s idea.  He said that if the portkey actually worked it had to be harder than just picking up the portkey and going back, plus there wouldn’t be any proof.  It must have been at Weasley Castle because Mum visited with Dad or something.”

 

“Charlie?’  George looked over at Arthur.  “Can’t be Charlie, he’d be two hundred years old or something.”

 

“No, not that Charlie.  My cousin Charlie.”

 

“Girls, I know we would love to know more, but this old man is feeling very tired.  And if I’m not wrong, you have classes tomorrow.”  Arthur rubbed his eyes.  “Detentions are to be avoided, as it seems some of the Weasley, ah, traditions, have continued.”

 

“Andy gets detentions all the time.  I’m the good one.  Well, I got one detention.”  Melody looked over at Andy.  “Don’t you say a word.”

 

“No classes tomorrow.  We’re all excused from classes, since it’s a historical event.  We have to write reports for History of Magic, though.”  Andy smiled at George and Arthur.  “And you’re coming, too.  I have an idea how we can pull it off.  I think your beds are ready now.”

 

George looked over his shoulder to find two Gryffindor four-poster beds at the ready, with pajamas laid out on top.  “Sounds like a good idea, Dad.  Tomorrow should be interesting.”

 

“We have to leave really early tomorrow, ‘cuz we have to help setup.”  Melody thumbed in Andy’s direction.  “It’s Andy’s year for the tour.”

 

Andy rolled her eyes.  “Merlin.  I have to be the tour guide for the first years.  I’m so glad this is my last year.  After they leave then we have the real family reunion.  I think some of the Potter lot is actually camping out this year.  Should make things fun when we get there really early.”

 

Arthur stood up and held out his hand.  “That’s enough for tonight, girls.  Wake us up when we need to leave.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

It seemed as if only moments had passed to Arthur when he felt a hand slightly shake his shoulder.

 

“Grandpa Arthur?  It’s time to wake up.”

 

It took him a few moments to register that he was at Hogwarts, and the red-haired girl shaking him wasn’t Ginny.  “Oh, right.  What time is it, Andy?”

 

“A little after five in the morning.  We need to go, can you get George?  He won’t wake up.”

 

“Don’t feel bad, you’re not the only one.  I’m afraid he isn’t a morning person.”

 

After finally rousing George, the Weasleys gathered at the door of the Room of Requirement.  Melody looked to her cousin nervously.

 

“How are we going to get them out?  Peeves is in the corridor.”

 

“Leave that to me.”  George opened the door and walked confidently outside.  Before anyone could say a word, George stepped back inside.  “All clear.  Told him Umbridge was in the Headmaster’s office, so that should give us about a good ten minutes.”

 

As they headed out of Hogwarts, Arthur heard Melody ask Andy about Umbridge.

 

“You never listen on the tour, do you Melly?  I swear you need to study more.  Maybe you should write about that for your paper this year.”  Andy stopped at a statue.  “Ok, here we go.”

 

“This passageway is still open?”  George looked at the girls.  “The more things change…ok, let’s go.”

 

As they left the school grounds Melody put her arm in Arthur’s.  “I’m apparating with Grandpa.  You’re a horrible at it, Andy.”

 

Within minutes, the four Weasleys were no longer at Hogwarts.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The moon had almost disappeared when they stood a mile or so away from The Burrow, the closest distance that the anti-apparition charm would allow.  The trees were dense around them, and they slowly picked their way through the brush.  Instead of the darkness surrounding The Burrow, this time small lights could be seen in the distance.  The four steadily made progress, but it was slow going, and the dew was heavy on their feet and legs.  When they were almost there George stopped dead in his tracks.

 

“Uh, over there, ah…wolf.”

 

Arthur looked to where George gestured, and a large, grey wolf slowly looked at the four of them.  The wolf took a few more steps then stopped and howled towards the moon.  Arthur and George reached for their wands, but the girls shook their heads.  Andy, in particular, seemed irritated rather than scared.  Before Arthur could say a word Andy walked over towards the wolf.

 

“Quit it Gareth.  You’ll wake everybody.  On second thought, do that again, we haven’t had breakfast.”

 

The wolf bounded over to her, rubbed his head on her waist, and once again raised its head and howled.

 

Melody walked over and petted the wolf.  “Stopped chasing your tail yet?”

 

Arthur and George watched the wolf suddenly transform until it was a tall, dark-headed boy.  Arthur took one look at the boy’s hair and chuckled.  “I take it your last name is Potter?”

 

“Yeah.  Do I know you?”  The boy walked over to Arthur.  “You look familiar.”

 

Andy smacked him on the arm.  “Duh, Gareth.  It’s Great-Great Grandpa Weasley.  Actually it’s not.  It’s a Hufflepuff that I convinced to be a polyjuiced version of him for the day.  Extra credit.  Same thing with my Great-Grandpa George over there.  They can’t tell you their names or they won’t get the extra credit, so for now just call them Arthur and George, ok?”

 

“Hufflepuffs.  They’re so gullible.”  Gareth shook his head.  “Complete nutters, they are.”

 

Melody smacked him on the back of the head and began walking towards the lights.  “Don’t let your Grandpa hear that, or Great Uncle Al.  Now come on, I’m hungry.”

 

As they got close to the lights the morning fog was starting to lift around The Burrow, but George could faintly see a group of people, actually kids, running around in the mist.  After a few more minutes, the campfires became distinct, along with the tents that seemed to dot the old Quidditch pitch behind The Burrow.  To George it looked as if a mini Quidditch World Cup tent city was on the pitch.  They followed Gareth until suddenly he swerved directions and headed to a large tent that was flying a Chudley Cannons pennant.

 

“We’re going to Aunt Polly’s tent.  She has the best food.”  Gareth opened the tent flap and everyone stepped inside except for Gareth and George, who looked up at the Cannons pennant.

 

“Cannons still awful, are they?”  George looked at Gareth and pointed at the pennant.

 

“I’ll say.  Can’t stand them.  They win everything.”  Gareth made a rude gesture at the pennant and walked inside, leaving George still standing in the doorway, wondering what had happened and if his brother Ron had been alive to see it.

 

For the next few hours Arthur and George sat on the edge of the commotion, watching cousins tease each other, fight, and Aunt Polly do everything in her power to make her daughter Gwennie eat something besides bacon.  It seemed like a waking dream, and at least once Arthur had to shake his head to come to terms with everything.  George had almost fallen asleep again when Andy came over and pulled the two of them out of their chairs.

 

“Come on, we’re going to the house.  Time to make Charlie pay up.”  She grabbed a roll from the table and jerked her head towards the door, pointedly ignoring the rest of her cousins.  As they walked out of the tent towards The Burrow Andy seemed to have a little bit of a spring to her step, causing her curls to bounce.

 

Arthur noticed the sun was almost up when they came to the back door, which opened before they could knock.  In the doorway stood a stocky red-haired young man, just a little shorter than George.

 

“You’re late, Andy.  Setup’s almost done.”

 

“So what, Charlie?  You made me do it all last year.”  Andy smiled at him, and it made Charlie take a step back.

 

“Ok, you’re scaring me.  And who’d you bring with you?”  He looked at George and Arthur slowly.  “No bloody way.”

 

Andy stood with one hand on her hip and one hand extended towards Charlie, palm facing upwards.  “Way.  You owe me forty Galleons.”

 

“Forty!”

 

“Yes, forty.  The twenty I paid you and then the twenty you owe me.  Now let us in.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

As the four Weasleys sat in the kitchen, Arthur couldn’t believe his eyes.  Here was his kitchen, just as he remembered it when Molly had sent him and George out for a walk.  It was as if time had stood still for over seventy years.  The Weasley Family clock was now on a wall surrounded by other clocks.  The only thing that was different was that several of the hands pointed to “At Peace” while his and George’s hands pointed to “Home.”

 

Andy had caught Arthur staring at the clock, and she elbowed Charlie and pointed to the clock.

 

“There, if you want proof, you’ve got it.  Now pay up.”

 

While Charlie protested that he did not carry that kind of money on him, George began walking through the house.  Every so often he would stop and read a placard that was fastened to the wall, and then he would move to another part of the house.  The Burrow really was a museum!  He took the stairs towards the bedrooms and when he came to Ron’s room he stopped short.

 

“Andy!  Can you come here?”

 

After Andy joined him outside of the bedroom he pointed towards the placard on the wall.

 

“Is that right?”

 

She nodded.  “Oh yeah.  Dad said he was one of the best Ministers of Magic we’ve ever had, second only to Shacklebolt.  Wanna see your old room?”

 

George followed her up the stairs until he stood outside his old bedroom.  He hadn’t been able to enter the room after Fred had died, and now, over seventy years later, he didn’t know if he could do it.  Andy watched his face and she realized that in his time his brother had only been gone a short while.

 

“Grandpa George, do you know why we have the event on this day?  It started as a remembrance for Fred, and over the years it’s turned into a family reunion.  Weasleys from all over the world come back to The Burrow on this day.  All of the Weasley shops are closed on April first.  He’s not forgotten, not at all.”

 

She put her hand in his and they stood there at the doorway for a long time.  Finally George led her through the doorway and they stood in the bedroom.  After a few minutes George let go of Andy’s hand, walked over to the window and then knelt down on the floor.  He took out his wand, tapped a floorboard several times on one end, twice on the other end, and then lifted up the floorboard.

 

“I can’t believe they’re still there.”

 

Andy looked in the hole and saw a stack of parchment tied with a piece of string alongside a key.

 

“What are they?”

 

George laughed.  “Letters home from Hogwarts.  We intercepted them and hid them here so Mum wouldn’t find them.”  He took them out and handed the parchments to Andy.  “I think you’ll enjoy reading them sometime.  And that is a spare key to Dad’s car.  Keep them.  Have a little fun.  Probably a good idea not to let anyone know about them, and if I remember right the Anglia has a bit of a problem when you make a left turn.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

When Andy and George returned to the kitchen some time later Arthur was deep in conversation with Charlie, who seemed as if he was still in a severe state of shock.

 

“Did you completely blow Charlie’s mind yet, Grandpa Arthur?”  Andy stood behind a chair and laughed.

 

“Totally worth the forty Galleons, Andy.  Totally.”  Charlie shook his head.  “How long are they staying?”

 

Arthur sighed.  “Not very long, I’m afraid.  Molly is expecting us back at any moment, and we’ve been gone for over a day.  She’s probably sent the Aurors out looking for us.”

 

Andy shook her head vigorously.  “Oh no, it’s not like that.  When you go back it’ll be as if you never left.  By the way, where are the pliers now?  Mum should be getting here soon.”

 

George took out the parchment and one _Absentiatus_ spell later confirmed what Andy had guessed.  “The Burrow, In the Shed, fourth shelf on the right.”

 

Andy’s voice was very quiet.  “Dad must have put them back.  That means you can leave whenever you want.”

 

It wasn’t hard for Arthur to hear the sadness in his great-great granddaughter’s voice.  “I think we’ll stay for a bit longer.  I don’t think it would be a good thing for us to be here when the big crowd arrives, though.  Might be hard for us to keep pretending to be Hufflepuffs in disguise.”

 

George watched Andy slowly walk over to him and Arthur.  She held out her hands, and the two of them took her hands and let her lead them forward.  When it looked as if they were going to walk through a wall suddenly the wall disappeared and they stood in the middle of a large, circular room.  The walls of the room were covered with portraits, and in one small alcove stood a podium with a large book.  Above the book hung portraits of Arthur and Molly Weasley, lit from by an invisible spotlight.  Andy slowly walked over to the portraits and then motioned towards the book.  Arthur saw a very ornate quill with a metal tip lying on the open pages of the book, the black feather of the quill iridescent in the spotlight.

 

Andy sighed and looked at Arthur, then began to speak in her tour guide voice.  “This book is the family record of the Weasley family.  Arthur and Molly Weasley had seven children.  Currently more than eighty great-great grandchildren can trace their heritage back to Molly and Arthur Weasley.  The Weasleys are one of the most prominent Wizarding families, and have a Minister of Magic, Aurors, educators, multiple professional Quidditch players, a Wizarding university founder, and of course the founders of one of the most successful companies in the world amongst their lineage.  They played one of the most prominent roles in defeating the dark wizard Voldemort alongside Harry Potter, and their legacy is studied to this day among students of Wizarding schools worldwide.  Hugo Weasley donated The Burrow to the Ministry Historical Society and had the house restored to its state as of the defeat of Voldemort.  The portraits you see on the walls were painted by Hugo’s wife Virginia.  The grounds…”

 

Andy stopped talking, ran over to Arthur and threw herself into his arms.  Arthur patted her on the back while she cried softly into his shoulder.

 

“It’s all right, my dear, it’s all right.”

 

Andy lifted her head and looked at him.  “But you won’t remember any of it!  It’s so sad!”

 

“We may not remember the details, but I think we’ll remember the feelings.”  Arthur looked to George, who was standing in front of a portrait.

 

“Whoever Virginia is, Dad, she got us right.”  George looked at the portrait of him and his brother.  “Why don’t they act like regular portraits, Andy?”

 

“Virginia Weasley learned to paint from her Muggle aunt.  The story goes that Grandpa Arthur wanted it that way.”

 

Charlie walked into the room nervously.  “Um, Andy, they’re going to start showing up any time now.  I brought the pliers from the shed.  They’re on the kitchen table.”

 

As Arthur and George followed Charlie out of the room, Andy stood and looked at the portrait of Fred and George Weasley.  After a few moments she walked over to the book on the podium and turned the pages to the end of the book.  Taking the quill she wrote something on the very last page, then ripped a part of the paper out and folded it into a neat square.  After finding the previously opened pages of the book, she laid the quill down and left the room.  When she entered the kitchen everyone was standing around the table, the pliers lying on the parchment on top of the table.

 

“Hugs first.”  Andy held out her arms to Arthur, who gave her a long hug.  After breaking away from Arthur, she turned to George.

 

George laughed.  “Seems just a little odd, doesn’t it?  I’m only a few years older than you and I’m your Great-Grandfather.”

 

“Yes and no.”  Andy smiled sadly, and then held out her arms.  While hugging George she slipped the folded up piece of paper into his pocket.

 

“Andy, hurry up, I see your Mum!”  Charlie stood at the door, nervously shifting his weight back and forth.

 

Arthur and George moved to the table and held their hands above the pliers.

 

George looked at Andy expectantly.  “What’s the spell, Andy? The one that we have to say when we touch the portkey?”

 

Andy smiled through her tears.  “ _Domus Infinitus_.  It’s on the other scroll now.”

 

After quickly reading the parchment George and Arthur waved at Andy and Charlie, said the spell as they touched the portkey, and disappeared.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

George Weasley stood up and rubbed his head, and a few moments after standing up he realized that he was soaked to the bone.  Why the bloody hell had he been sleeping on the soggy ground?  And his father as well?  What had happened?  After waking up his father both of the Weasley men decided that whatever had happened they were definitely not going to tell Molly, as she would go into a complete fit.

 

“Best be heading back now, son.  Your mum will wonder where we’ve gone.”

 

George nodded and followed his father.  As he walked along the long lane George put his hands in his jacket, as the wind had picked up.  As his hand touched something he wasn’t expecting he fished around and found it, and then pulled it out.  It was a scrap of paper, and after unfolding it he saw clear, obviously feminine handwriting in ink that almost looked as if it wasn’t completely dry.  He read the writing and smiled; something he hadn’t felt like doing in ages.

 

Arthur noticed the change in George’s demeanor right before they reached The Burrow.  “What was that, George?”

 

“Nothing, Dad.”  George held out his hand and the note was carried away on the wind, but he remembered what it said:  “ _No matter how dark it seems now, things will get better.  I have seen your future, and it’s beyond your wildest dreams_.”

 

**A/N: Domus Infinitus is a mashup that means “Always at Home.”**


End file.
